The Bet

"Wait, so you're telling me you actually went over there?" Mike looked at his friend as he shoved his black backpack into the small locker.

"Yes." Billie laughed. "And the best part about the whole thing is the last time I saw her before she got sick, she saw me macking this chick in the library. I think I've got her at least a little bit curious."

Billie watched as Mike's mouth fell agape before busting out into a fit of laughter as he slammed his locker shut. It was finally lunch time and he was ready to go get stoned.

"Did we ever set a time limit on this bet?" Mike asked, scoping out the plethora of students that filled the main hallway.

"No. But you really can't, you know, man. These things have to take their time."

"Well not too fucking long I would hope. I want to hear progress with this girl!" Billie rolled his eyes at his friends outburst.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Billie was about to defend himself when Mike slapped his chest, catching him completely off-guard.

"What the hell, man!" Billie felt his eyebrows connect as he fell against the locker, staring up at his best friend in pure confusion.

"There's Shayla. Why don't you invite her on today's voyage?" Mike wiggled his eyebrows as Billie looked to where Mike's eyes resided.

"You're such a douche." Billie shook his head at his friend's suggestion.

"Oh, I'm the douche? Really, Billie?" Mike looked from Shayla to his friend. Sometimes he couldn't believe how ignorant Billie could sound.

Billie ignored the statement and shook his head as his eyes landed on Shayla.

Shayla was feeling much better, especially since her surprise visit from Billie. He had melted the anxiety she had been feeling when it came to chemistry.

"Shayla, incoming," Her friend whispered, looking beyond her shoulder. Shayla turned in curiosity, nearly jumping out of her skin when she realized Billie was in close proximity of her face.

"Oh!" She squeaked, causing Billie to smile.

"I'll talk to you later, Shay." Her friend slipped between the two of them, shooting Shayla a warning glance before disappearing into the crowd of students.

"O-Oh okay.." She nodded and she barely had time to regain focus before he cut straight to the point.

"Come out with me today."

"What?" She furrowed her eyebrows as she leaned up against the closest set of lockers.

"You have lunch right now, correct?"

"Yes..." She spoke hesitantly as she began to furrow her eyebrows again.

"Well, I'm about to leave campus and you're coming with me."

"I am not going to go get stoned with you, Billie," she said flatly.

"I know you're not. I just want the company."

Shayla looked to her right, where he had approached her, and looked for his friend.

"Don't you go with Michael? I know he is here today, so don't try lying to me." She looked back at Billie and felt her stomach tighten when she saw he was already looking at her.

"Mike, not Michael. And yes, I know he is here today but he passed."

Billie smiled encouragingly as Shayla looked around the hall for people who would recognize who she was with and who could possibly tell Dave. Then she realized she had no idea who knew if he even existed or not.

Only their names were known, not their faces.

She sighed. "Alright."

Billie smirked as she readjusted her purse strap on her shoulder and began walking toward the side doors with the boy she had no idea about.

*

"This is where you come to smoke?" Shayla asked, stunned, as she overlooked the football field.

"Yes. Welcome to Tightwad Hill, miss. Home of the drug-dealers and cheapskates." He opened his arms as if displaying a worthy prize on The Price Is Right.

Shayla opened the passenger door of Rusty, which held too strong of a cigarette stench for Shayla's liking, and shut it with delicacy as she slid out of the seat.

"You sure know how to treat things with care." Billie observed as he slammed his door shut and met her in front of the car.

He hopped onto the hood and patted the chipping red top as she crinkled her nose.

"I'm fine with standing," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest.

"Suit yourself." He shrugged, grabbing the bag of joints and his favorite blue Bic lighter out of his coat pocket.

He noticed her shirt falling forward and allowed the lighter to fall out of his lap as he leaned forward a bit as he struggled with opening the bag.

"Ah! Fuck!" He grumbled, watching the lighter hit the worn grass with a light thud.

"I'll get it." She laughed, leaning forward and her shirt falling fully open - revealing herself. Billie smiled at his accomplishment.

She casually slid the lighter into his hand, once again, without making contact with his skin.

After a few minutes of silence, she hopped onto the hood of the car and stared at the bag of joints that were strewn about.

"I can't even imagine what it must be like to be you," he admitted, watching her reaction out of the corner of his eye.

When she stayed silent, he stopped rolling his joint and saw her looking at her intertwined hands.

"I honestly don't think you would like to know," she replied, eventually, catching him by surprise at how meek her voice sounded.

"Perfect grades, multiple colleges, wealthy parents. I don't know what's not there that no one wishes for."

"My biggest fear in life is failure, that explains the good grades. I have no control over the financial aspect," she explained lamely. She was not enjoying this conversation.

"You know what's funny? I've heard such rumors about you, and never had any idea of who you were. Now that I know you. But what you display of yourself, I think it's completely ironic how jealous people must be of you. You are nothing like they made you out to be. There is something different about you." Billie surprised himself at how much he had spoken.

Shayla inhaled a laugh. "Yeah, well, isn't that usually the case? People make assumptions and stick to them, acting like it justifies anything at all. And different? You could say that again."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Have you ever noticed how I keep my distance from people? I don't make skin-to-skin contact with anyone beside Dave."

"Is he that controlling over you?"

"No, it has nothing to do with him. He's lucky, even, it's just because of how long we've been together. I trust him. I have an ugly past, we'll leave it at that..." Shayla trailed off as memories flooded her mind and she involuntarily cringed.

Billie watched as she violently yanked her purse off her shoulder, pulling out a small sketch book. She flipped it open to the first page, which was an unfinished sketch of buildings that he recognized from downtown San Fransisco. She pulled the pencil out of the black spirals and started lightly sketching.

"I was in therapy when I was younger, and they had me draw pictures since I was much too young to understand what had happened to me. The doctor noticed right away that I had some sort of talent, and my mom bought me my first sketch book and that was all I did for hours and days on end. It became my passion. It's what keeps me going. It's what helped heal me..." She finished shading in the roof and looked up at Billie.

"Aren't you going to smoke that?"

Billie felt a lump in his throat and he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He was overwhelmed with an unfamiliar emotion. He bit down on his tongue. This girl, this perfect stranger, had opened up and put herself out there without really even saying anything. He had seem her vulnerable side. Her flaw.

The real her.

"No," he choked.